Light and Fire on the Bus

There’s a guy who keeps flicking a lighter on Serena’s bus, and she’s slightly worried the whole thing is going to catch on fire.

She’s a few rows behind him, but she can see his blurry reflection in the window at the front of the bus, the contrast between the lights on inside the bus and the dark of the nighttime city rushing past making him visible like the window’s a mirror. 

She can see a light flicker on, and then off, around where his hands are. Serena doesn’t think you should be able to switch on a lighter on the bus. 

On, off. At the next stop, she’s had enough.

Serena makes her way towards the front of the bus. Her first few steps are steady, but then the bus starts moving again, so she’s swaying down the aisle like she’s seasick, or something. 

‘Excuse me,’ Serena says when she gets to the guy’s row, ‘Could you please not-’ 

She trails off, because she can see a light in the guy’s hands. There’s a little flicker of a flame, but there’s no lighter.

For a moment, her heart stops. Is this guy going to blow up the bus? Her immediate thought horrifies her, but- is he?

‘Oh, sorry,’ he says, looking up at her. He has very warm, brown eyes. ‘Is the flame bothering you?’ 

‘A little bit- I’m just worried about the bus, if it tilts suddenly, or-’ 

‘Oh, that makes sense. It’s a nervous tic, but I can stop it if you’d like,’ he says, and smiles. The flame goes out, and Serena wants to ask why he’s got a nervous tic going, but it’s been a long day and she’s tired, and all she wants to do is sit and listen to music, maybe watch a TikTok or ten, and not worry about whether or not the bus she’s in is going to catch fire. 

‘Thank you very much,’ she says, hopes it comes off sincere, and goes back to her seat. The flames don’t return.